


Fireworks

by 80sGayTrashGoblin



Series: BAltDAU [2]
Category: Voltron: Lion Force (1984)
Genre: BAltDAU, Fluff and Angst, Fourth of July, Gen, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Minor Character Death, Suicidal Thoughts, it's only near the end and one sentence but still
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25081519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80sGayTrashGoblin/pseuds/80sGayTrashGoblin
Summary: The Fourth of July was always a holiday that held mixed feelings for Lance.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: BAltDAU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1794631
Comments: 3
Kudos: 7





	Fireworks

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this all tonight at 10 at night without a beta, so we'll see how well this goes.

Lance sat on the grass, in the lap of one of his older siblings, at the tender age of five years old. It’s become a bit of a tradition, travelling to the nearest town and watching the fireworks with his massive family. They take up an entire field for themselves; covered in picnic blankets and paper plates long picked clean. Lance himself had a glow stick bracelet around his wrist. 

“When’s it gonna start?! When’s it gonna start?!” Mia bounced up and down, whining impatiently. Lance giggled at her, and she swat him over the head. Their family jokes that their twins, because they look so similar and are the same age, so now they act like it.

“Be patient, Mia,” Dante, their older, pat her on the head. “All good things come for those who wait.” 

“But that’s boring!” 

A loud whistle, then an explosion in the air. Lance sat, captivated as the firework exploded in the air into a million different colored fragments. And another, and another. He could feel the explosions from the tip of his toes to the top of his head, and he wouldn’t want it any other way. He felt Dante pull him close as they watched the colors dance across the sky, and for that moment, his soul settled.

On one of the most explosive and chaotic holidays of the year, Lance was content, because he was with his family. 

  
  


Lance sat on a picnic blanket, a leather jacket too big around his shoulders as he laid down on the ground. Even in the excitement and party of the Fourth of July, what was usually his favorite holiday, he just couldn’t bring himself to care. 

He felt, rather than heard, Mia plop down next to him, a piece of fruit in her hands. “Lance-y,” she sing-songed, then frowned when she realized he wasn’t smiling. “Lance. Lance. Lance!” 

“What?” He grumbled, rolling over onto his side to face his sister. 

“Why’re you so grumpy?” She huffed. “The fireworks are going to go off soon!”

Lance rolled back over. “I just am. Go away.” 

Mia huffed, rolling her eyes like she’d seen their older siblings do. “I was gonna give you a slice of watermelon, but I guess I’ll just eat it then.” 

“I don’t want it.” 

A moment of silence passed, then he heard his sister get up and leave wordlessly. That was fine by Lance. He really didn’t want any company anyways. Or rather, he did, but that company was never going to arrive. 

Lance was eight years old when he spent his first night of fireworks watching alone, without his older brother. 

  
  


It was only when he left the little farm in the mountains, that he began to like the holiday again. And even then, it was because of some very dedicated friends. 

He was fourteen when he was enlisted to the Garrison against his will by his family. (His sister tried to get in, but was ultimately rejected because she responded to every question with the word ‘goat.’) He hated it at first, but he met his pen pal, Hunk, in person for the first time. He also made friends with his squad mates, Sven, Pidge and Keith.

Nobody remembered whose idea it originally was to go and blow up homemade fireworks on the roof of the Garrison, but everyone agreed to it, with the exception being Keith. Surprising that Sven agreed to it at all, because he was usually the one to have the brain cell of the group, but no one was complaining (except for Keith, again). 

So, with homemade fireworks courtesy of Pidge, and a Keith on the edge of a nervous breakdown, they snuck onto the roof of the Garrison. Pidge put them into position, Hunk cooked the barbeque, and Lance brought the alcohol. Sven, for his part, brought a first aid kit. 

Lance laid the picnic blanket that he had brought up (“Because if we’re going to do this Keith, we’re going to do this right.”) and planted his butt firmly on it. Keith was pacing the edge of the roof, so by being a good friend, he patted the seat next to him.

Keith actually took his offer and sat down. He leaned on Lance, and Lance leaned right back. “Dude, you need to chill a little,” Lance said. 

“But what if the Garrison catches us and kicks us all out-”

“If the Garrison somehow catches us, we run like hell so we aren’t identified, and you come up with an alibi for where we were tonight.” Lance pat his friend on the back.

But with his keen perception, he could tell that his friend wasn’t completely relaxed, so he turned to the other sure-fire technique: food. “Hunk, my dude, my man-”

“What up?” 

“Pass me a rib.” 

“No problemo.” 

Lance wordlessly passes his rib to Keith, who devours it like a hungry man. “Jesus, man, you act like you’re starving.” 

“I forgot to eat breakfast and lunch,” Keith said through bites of meat. “I was too worried about tests.” 

“Jeez, you need this break more than I do.” Lance passed him another rib. “Look, tonight is the Fourth of July. Tonight is about celebrating the fact that we scrambled our asses to finish those tests, and through hard work, perseverance, and luck, we made it here. You know what Hamilton did when he won the war?”

“What does that- What? What did he do?” 

“He kicked back in the local pub and celebrated. That’s what we’re doing too.” 

Keith sighed, kicking back. “Fine. Although I still don’t get how I’m Hamilton.” 

“Trust me, tomorrow we’re watching the play together and you get to see it. The parallels are uncanny, man.” 

“We’re ready to go!” Pidge shouted, staking his seat on Lance’s lap. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around Pidge, leaning in as he looked at the sky and saw colors swimming with the stars. 

That night, surrounded by friends and illegal fireworks, was the first Fourth of July since all those years ago that he felt content again. 

Surprisingly, no one did find them on the roof, so that spot became a tradition for the rest of their time at the Garrison. Even when they were captured by the galra, even when they were fighting the galra alone, even when Sven went down, Lance still held on those memories of fireworks on the rooftops with his friends. 

He held onto them when the Garrison redacted their MIA status. He held onto them when the General arrived and they were honorably discharged. He held onto them when the newly recovered Arusian Parliament attempted to oust Allura and take control. He held onto them when Allura was elected and crowned Queen of Arus. He held onto them when Zarkon was finally killed, and Lotor ascended the throne to King of the Galra Kingdom, under the Drule Empire. 

And it finally paid off. He sat underneath a willow tree with his boyfriend and his sister. Allura sat next to the food basket with Hunk, and Pidge was in his lap. 

“Look at how far we’ve come,” Mia chuckled. “Remember when we last sat on the grass for the fireworks?” 

Lance smiled, looking up at the sky. They weren’t celebrating the Fourth of July, but Freedom Day, the day that Arus was originally freed from the former control of the Altea Empire centuries ago. It seems fitting then, that the unofficial end of the war was on the same day. “Yeah. Back then we were two kids on a farm in Utah. Now I’m a knight of a lion and you’re a general of the army.” 

They smiled at each other, then Lance heard the definitive whistling as the show began. While Arusian technology was generally more impressive than Earth’s, fireworks was still always better when it was Earth’s. 

As he kissed Keith, his boyfriend, with his family surrounding him under the stars and fireworks, he finally felt happy. 

It’s been three years since then. While the war hadn’t ended back then, it had gotten easier. Lotor was not a competent enemy. There were some times where various other Drule Kingdoms joined him, but they usually backed off soon enough, and Arus even had treaties with some of them. 

Iris sat in his lap, rather than Pidge, the orphan that Keith had spontaneously adopted two years ago. Speaking of which, he could feel the ring on his hand, as he reminded himself that Keith wasn’t his boyfriend, but his fiance. Fiance. It sounded wonderful to say. 

“What’re you thinking about, papa?” Iris asked, her wings folded around her in the chill Arusian air. Lance smiled to himself, and ruffled her hair, earning a squawk from his daughter. 

“Nothing you need to worry about,” he said, looking over at Keith. Keith, bless his heart, snickered, but scooted over. 

“Iris, dear, why don’t you go ask auntie Allura for more water?” Keith asked gently, and as she scampered off, he sat next to Lance. They leaned on each other, like all those years ago, when they were teenagers and didn’t even realize they had crushes on each other. 

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked, his eyes sparkling with the stars. 

Lance shrugged. “Just reminiscing, I guess.” 

Keith smiled, bumping his shoulder. “Get your head out of the clouds and on the ground,” he joked, laying backwards, and Lance followed him. 

As the fireworks started, and he could hear Iris’s wondrous cries, and he could feel his fiance next to him, he smiled. Lance couldn’t really picture what the rest of his life would be like, but he could imagine it would be something like this moment. 

Lance stood on the balcony on top of the tower, a flask in his hand. The others were on a picnic blanket on the hill, but he couldn’t bring himself to join them. 

It’s been three months since his fiance disappeared along with Onyx, the black lion. Arus was pressed on its back, the Drules turning their backs on their treaties at the first sign of weakness. They might fall again, and wouldn’t that be funny. For them to work all this time, for them to sell their souls, for them to die for this planet, for their sacrifice to mean nothing. For Keith’s death to mean nothing. 

Officially, his fiance disappeared. Behind closed doors, they lost hope that they would find him alive, and they were losing hope that they would find him at all. Lance tried to hold onto his hope that he’s alive, but it was much more difficult than happy memories. 

The explosions started above him, and he started drinking. That Freedom Day, he felt the hole in his heart again, like when he had to spend the first Fourth of July without Dante. Except this time it was different. It was bigger. It was Keith. 

Keith did so much with what time he had. He fought tooth and nail for Arus, for his team, for his family. He helped support Allura when she buckled from political pressure. He helped support everyone when they buckled from mental pressure. He helped build this nation along Allura, even ghost writing her speeches (with her permission, of course), and he adopted Iris and raised her. Lance couldn’t do half of the things Keith has done in the last few years in a single lifetime, and that wasn’t even considering where he came from. 

Keith was amazing. Keith was supportive. Keith was a fighter. Keith was a star. Keith was gone. 

Lance had moved onto his next flask by then. The others insisted on having him visit Keith’s grave on the hill, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he did, he might give into the thoughts that pecked at him to go join his fiance, finally get married in death, but he couldn’t. He had to continue what Keith did. He had to raise Iris. He couldn’t let Keith’s death be for nothing. 

The fireworks above him didn’t bring Lance peace. Not anymore. 


End file.
